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“I never said that! I never said that!” Dennis repeated, frustration welling in his tone as he gestured wildly with his hands, the ability to maintain his composure failing horribly. “What I said was that while your hair may look small, it’s still acceptable. Alright? It’s still acceptable! So just –”
“You know what? You know what? I don’t need this shit, Dennis! I don’t need it anymore and I’m sick of it. So, you know what? I’m out. I’m out,” Mac told him, then stomped out of the bar, the door hitting the wall as he threw it open.
“Goddammit, Mac! Get back here!” Dennis called after him as he raced out from behind the bar and followed after him. “Don’t walk away from me, asshole!”
“Asshole? I’m not the asshole in this situation, Dennis! You are! Would it kill you to say one nice thing about me?” Mac exclaimed, halting in his steps as he crossed the street and turning back towards Dennis.
“I say nice things about you all the time!” Dennis shot back, still standing on the curb as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Oh yeah? Name one.” Mac narrowed his eyes at him as Dennis’ mouth opened but he remained silent. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fuck you!”
It was at that moment, Dennis realized that the car he’d seen out of the corner of his eye was still traveling at a high rate of speed instead of slowing down, but before he could alert Mac to the fact, it crashed into him, sending him flying ten feet into the air, and as if in slow motion, Dennis watched as he fell back to the ground in a heap of broken and bloodied limbs.
“Mac!” he cried out, though it was apparent that the other man couldn’t hear him. As Dennis hopped down off the foot drop to the street, legs carrying him automatically over to Mac, he saw that the life had left his eyes, the two brown pools empty and lacking the depth they were supposed to be carrying.
Dennis sat straight up in bed, chest heaving as he woke from the nightmare. He grimaced, the cold air immediately alerting him to the sweat he was currently covered in. “Goddammit,” he ground out, falling back to his pillow and regretting it as his sleep shirt now clung to his damp skin. “Fuck me. And Mac. That asshole,” he cursed as he flung the covers back and slid his feet over the side of the bed. He put his head in his hands, fingers tangling in his curls as he closed his eyes then quickly reopened them, images of Mac’s garish visage flashing across his vision. He swiped his phone from the nightstand and checked the time, the numbers 5:56 staring back at him.
He considered changing but discarded the thought just as abruptly as it had come. There was no way in hell he’d be able to go about his day until he took a shower, not after having perspired to the point of soaking his clothes.
His sour mood blossomed into utter irascibility the moment he saw Mac come out of his bedroom, stupidly handsome face wearing a bright smile as he carried his gym bag into the living room and set it on the coffee table. “Oh, hey, Dennis,” he greeted him cheerily as he entered the kitchen and retrieved his shake mixer from the dish strainer. God, he had such a stupid face. How could one person be so irritatingly stupid and unaware of the problems they were causing another human being on a subconscious level? Jesus Christ, it was downright appalling! Goddamn, stupid fucking handsome asshole.
Dennis remained silent, brow furrowed as he sipped at his coffee, both elbows propped on the kitchen table as he stared straight ahead. He imagined wrapping his hands around Mac’s throat as he straddled him and squeezing, Mac gasping for breath, eyes widening when he realized what was happening, and right before he bit the dust, being the merciful God that he was, Dennis would lessen the pressure he was applying just long enough for Mac to apologize for his stupidity and ignorance. Dennis would pat his head, tell him he was a good boy, and then their lips would meet and –
“I was going to stop by Wegmans on the way home. Did you want anything?” Mac asked as he made his daily morning protein shake, eyebrows raised expectantly, but his voice only made tension weave itself across Dennis’ shoulders as he hugged the coffee mug to his chest, knuckles stark white from his grip. “Hey, are you feeling okay? I know it’s early, but you look a little pa –”
“I’m fine,” Dennis hissed, top lip curling fractionally as he shifted his gaze over to Mac. God, he was so fucking dumb, Dennis thought as he studied his smooth skin and the muscles that were evident even when he wasn’t flexing. Jesus, and his pathetically flat stomach that Dennis could just make out underneath the threadbare piece of shit shirt he was wearing. “Why are you dressed like you’re homeless?”
Confusion pulled Mac’s brow down as he tugged at his shirt. “I always wear old shit to the gym,” he defended. “I mean, I’m going to get all hot and sweaty anyway, so I really don’t see the point of –”
“I don’t care,” Dennis cut him off flatly, gaze slipping from the other man’s toned calves and back to the wall. Or maybe, maybe, he would tie Mac up to his bed, zip tie his limbs to each corner so he looked like a starfish or other prey of some sort, all laid out and completely helpless, begging Dennis for forgiveness. Big, fat ugly tears would pour from his silly little puppy dog eyes, and Dennis would drag the knife he kept for special occasions such as that particular one along Mac’s skin, perhaps allowing a drop or two of blood to bead on the surface of his muscular flesh. Mac would wince, bottom lip trembling as Dennis continued to glide the tip of the blade along his skin until he reached his throat then hold it there, pressing the tip in just a millimeter or so, Mac begging and pleading with him to stop.
“No, Dennis, please don’t!” he would implore, and Dennis would cradle his cheek, fingertips brushing along the stubble, and laugh. He would laugh and laugh and laugh as Mac cried, and then he would slowly kiss each tear away before –
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mac’s question cut through his daydream and Dennis scowled at him. “Okay, okay,” he held his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’ll be back in two hours. Hopefully, you’re not as feral by then,” Mac muttered underneath his breath as he grabbed his bag and headed out the door, Dennis’ mug shattering against the wall the second he disappeared behind it.
He didn’t bother cleaning it up. Instead, he went into his bedroom and picked up his pillow then screamed into it for the next ten minutes (or twenty; he was having a really bad day after all). By the time he was finished, his throat was sore, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything other than setting Mac straight (well, not straight straight, just straighter).
He would have to do something drastic to really grasp the other man’s attention. His ADHD had grown considerably worse the older he got, and it was hard for him to stay focused on anything for too long. Dennis paced the apartment, mind racing as imaginary scenarios continued to play out in his head. There were choices to make, and hard ones at that.
He sat down on the couch, grabbing the notebook he used to write down all the vitamins he took and the times he took them then turned to the back page. A list, he’d write a list. He loved writing lists. It was perfect because if his first plan failed, then he could just move on down until he found one that worked. Yes, yes, yes…
Ways to Kill tame Mac’s appeal
1. Tell him how stupid he is and how much you hate him in hopes he’ll off himself and save you the trouble.
No, Dennis shook his head, that wouldn’t be effective at all. Mac had grown far too accustomed to his criticisms and would merely laugh him off. Dennis tapped the pen to his chin, almost sliding the tip into his mouth when he realized what he was doing. “Goddammit! I’m turning into him!” he chastised himself and chucked the pen across the room then tossed the notebook onto the table. Clearly, his idea needed to be revamped. He sat back and folded his arms across his chest, huffing out a breath as he closed his eyes.
Think, Dennis, think.
He was awoken by the sound of the front door clattering along the wall, nearly jumping out of his skin at the rude disruption. “What the –” His words were cut off when he watched Mac stagger into the apartment, hands clamped over his stomach as blood streamed over his fingers. He made it another few feet before he collapsed to the floor.
Dennis was by his side in an instant, mouth agape as he watched Mac gasp for air as he reached up, crimson fingerprints staining Dennis’ cheek before he whispered, “I’m sorry.” His eyelids fluttered shut, hand falling limply to the floor and Dennis fell backwards, a cry dying on his lips as he once again woke up, though this time, there was no blood or theatrics as Mac entered the apartment. He quietly shut the door behind him, then glanced over in Dennis’ direction, doing a double take when he realized the man was now awake.
“Oh, hey, Den,” he said, a smile riddled with anxiety tugging up the corners of his mouth as he set a plastic cup down in front of him, filled with a green liquid. “I stopped by Catrina’s and got the –”
“Why?” Dennis cut off him crossly, eyeing the container with the greatest disdain he could bestow upon it until he transferred the expression to Mac whose eyes widened as though he were caught in a pair of proverbial headlights.
“Why what?” Mac asked, head tilting to the side as it always did every time he asked a question and lacked understanding.
“Why did you get this for me? I didn’t ask for it, so why did you get it?” Dennis snapped, not missing the way Mac’s head jerked back imperceptibly when he stood to his feet and took a step towards him.
“I got it because it’s your favorite, and you were in a really bad mood earlier and I thought this would help.” Mac’s tone lowered as a hint of a frown formed on his lips.
Dennis felt his eyebrow twitch at the other man’s reaction. He was expecting him to cower, but instead, he didn’t move, meeting Dennis’ icy glare and staying put even when Dennis got within inches of his face. “Are you trying to poison me again?” Dennis accused, and Mac had the utter audacity to look offended.
“What? No! That was a one-time thing, and you know it! I was just trying to be nice. Jesus Christ, dude.” He straightened his shoulders, and at the current moment with the shoes he was wearing, stood at the same height as Dennis, that little inch that usually separated them lost due to Dennis only having socks on his feet. Sure, they were almost always eye to physical eye, but there was something about their current situation that was making the blood in Dennis’ veins sizzle.
“Oh yeah, of course, you were. Good ol’ Mac. Always trying to be a nice guy. A good guy. A good – A good boy,” Dennis landed on the word and felt his mouth curve upwards as a surprised gasp left Mac’s lips.
“Well, I am – I am a g-good – a good boy, so you know,” Mac stammered, a deep blush darkening his features as he waved his hands through the air, gaze falling to the floor as Dennis leaned forward another inch.
“Are you really a – a good boy, Mac?” Dennis questioned, ensuring that he was now close enough for Mac to feel his breath upon his face.
Mac’s eyes squeezed tight as he nodded, biting his bottom lip as Dennis let the warm air ghost over his lips. “I am,” Mac bit the words out as his hands transformed into fists at his sides.
Dennis lowered his gaze, skimming over Mac’s pecs and washboard abs before it landed on the basketball shorts that were now noticeably uneven. “Why don’t you –” And Dennis paused, fingertips now suddenly trailing over Mac’s chest. “Show me.” This was far more thrilling than he’d originally thought it would be. He was the cat and Mac was the –
“No,” Mac’s voice was firm as he slapped Dennis’ hand away, brown eyes opening to reveal a resistance that hadn’t been present before. “I’m not showing you shit,” Mac informed him hotly as he jutted his chin out in defiance.
Dennis’ lips parted in shock, hand still tingling from Mac’s touch. “Excuse me?” Now, this was a turn of events he hadn’t expected. Mac standing up for himself?
“You heard me,” Mac shot back, features darkening the longer he met Dennis’ offended gaze. “Now, get out of my way before I make you get out of my way.”
Dennis’ pants had suddenly become uncomfortably tight. He hadn’t accounted for this. What the fuck even was this? Wait… “Am I dreaming again?” he muttered to himself, unaware that he’d spoken the words out loud.
Mac’s brow lowered. “Dreaming?” Inquisitiveness glimmered in his eyes as stared at Dennis.
“What?” Dennis barked, mouth snapping shut as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Shit, shit, shit. This was not good. Not good at all. He was supposed to be winning this game, not Mac. How the fuck did he get the upper hand?
Mac’s expression turned into a scrutinizing one, eyes narrowed as he focused on Dennis. “I see what this,” he stated, one brow now arched knowingly, lips pulled into a pout as he folded his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Dennis, but you can go fuck yourself,” he countered, the deeper tone he was using striking Dennis straight in the groin. He proceeded to shove past him, easily pulling his arm away from Dennis when he tried to stop him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Dennis spat, wincing at how high his voice was pitched. Things were spiraling and he didn’t understand how. How had they changed places? Why was Mac so goddamned sexy?
Goddammit!
“I’m going to take a shower,” Mac responded, not even bothering to turn around as he went into Dennis’ room.
“The fuck you are,” Dennis rushed to block his entry to the ensuite bathroom, spreading his arms out and latching on to the doorway. “You can go – ” Chills traversed the expanse of Dennis’ spine as Mac wrapped his arms around his waist and picked him up, moving him out of his way as though he weighed nothing. Dennis gaped at him, heart pounding in his chest and jaw practically hanging to the floor as Mac yanked his shirt off and tossed it casually to the tile. “I – I said n-no,” Dennis attempted to correct him, hand flying through the air to stop Mac from removing his shorts though it wasn’t until Mac grabbed him with the opposite hand that Dennis realized how badly he was shaking.
“You plan on watching?” Mac teased though there was no trace of humor on his bearded face. He held Dennis’ hand in his, gaze not faltering for a second.
Dennis continued to stutter over his words, trying to jerk his hand out of Mac’s to no avail. “Let go,” he commanded through his teeth, rage fueled by deep rooted horniness traveling like the speed of light through his veins.
“What are you gonna do if I don’t?” Mac questioned, and Dennis wanted so badly to poke his goddamn eyeballs out and put them on a spit, just to prove to him who he was messing with.
“I’ll kill you,” Dennis muttered furiously, and once again, their faces were mere inches apart.
“Will you now?” Mac was toying with him. There was no doubt about it. Goddamn motherfucking asshole. “How?” he went on, raising his eyebrows curiously as he continued to squeeze Dennis’ hand.
Dennis’ mind raced as he hurriedly tried to configure an answer. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have a library of ideas to choose from. It was all he’d been dreaming about for fucking months! “I’ll push you off the roof,” he threatened, and a smile with no feeling behind it curved up the corners of Mac’s lips.
“What if I pulled you with me?” Mac chose that moment to yank Dennis so close their noses were almost touching.
Dennis gulped, heat spreading across his entire body like wildfire. It would be perfect. He shoving Mac, Mac reaching out at just the last second, fingers clutching just enough material to send Dennis tumbling down on top of him, the both of them falling through the air and being the last thing the other would see.
Christ.
Dennis whimpered as Mac reached out and gripped his thin face, thumb pressing in on his cheekbone. “I’d go with you,” he murmured underneath Mac’s calloused hand, and he would. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would.
Less than a second passed before Mac shifted his hold and pulled Dennis’ mouth to his, lips taking what they wanted and leaving Dennis helpless in their wake. He returned the kiss, hands finding purchase on Mac’s bare skin as he grasped his pecs. A surprise noise bubbled out of his throat the second Mac shoved him against the wall and pinned his arms above his head. Dennis tried, legitimately fucking strained against him, but Mac’s hold didn’t budge.
Not one fucking bit.
Dennis mewled, cock growing impossibly hard. He was helpless, completely and utterly helpless like a newborn kitten. And the worst part?
He liked it.
No, scratch that, he fucking loved it.
Mac’s body was pressed up against his, so close, so tantalizingly close that he thought he was going to smother. He moaned, hips bucking forward and grinding into Mac, and Jesus, he was falling apart like a fucking loose thread, one fiber at a time.
Without warning, Mac used his free hand to rip the black and purple sweater off over Dennis’ head, the light gray tee he wore underneath going right along with it.
He opened his mouth to protest but Mac quickly silenced him with another kiss, tongue pushing past the threshold of his lips and conquering every inch of Dennis that he could. He slid his thigh in between Dennis’ legs, and Dennis whimpered at the touch. Mac released his arms, and instead of slapping the shit out of him like he’d originally considered, Dennis wrapped them around his shoulders, the zipper on his jeans almost cutting off his circulation as Mac slid one arm behind his shoulder blades and picked him up, Dennis instantly hooking his ankles around the small of Mac’s back.
The situation had devolved into something Dennis could no longer control. Mac was strong, like fucking strong strong and Dennis wanted the man to tear him apart. He’d never felt this way before – so small, so light, so powerless.
Mac broke the kiss, lips wandering along his throat, sucking and kissing and –
Dennis keened, pale neck bared as Mac pulled his flesh between his teeth and bit down hard enough to break the skin. A gasp fell from Dennis’ parted lips as he felt blood slowly trickle from the wound.
He’d never been more turned on his fucking life.
“Goddamn you,” he breathed the words out as Mac licked the metallic substance away, then began to suck as though he were a vampire with the desire to drink Dennis dry. “I hate you,” he whispered, and Mac chuckled darkly.
“I hate you too, you bitch,” he returned, and goddamn, his words sunk into Dennis’ bones, sending tendrils of shock and longing and need.
“Fuck you, asshole,” Dennis countered though there wasn’t a single drop of venom in his tone. He spoke as though he were merely discussing how beautiful the weather was while Mac devoured him like a starved wolf that finally found its meal.
“Only because you asked so nicely,” Mac bit back and carried Dennis over to the sink, sitting him on the counter as he slipped out of his shorts and underwear then undid the button on Dennis’ jeans, catching his wrist when Dennis swatted at him. “Oh, you want this to hurt,” he quipped with a raised brow and Dennis felt tears spring to his eyes because of course he fucking wanted it to hurt.
(He wanted everything to hurt because he thrived off of pain. If it didn’t hurt, it wasn’t worth his precious time.)
Mac was going to kill him. That was what all those goddamned dreams had signified. Mac was going to be the death of him.
(He could live with that.)
Gaze never leaving Dennis’, he shucked off Dennis’ jeans and briefs, letting them drop in a heap to the floor.
Dennis’ chest heaved as Mac grabbed his hips, the grip bruising thanks to the amount of strength contained in just his hands alone. (He could’ve grinded Dennis’ bones to dust and Dennis wouldn’t have even batted a single eyelash at the atrocious act; he would’ve rewarded the man instead.)
Without a word, Mac sank to his knees, continuing to hold on tightly to Dennis while he took his cock in his mouth all the way to the hilt in one voracious swallow. His fingers immediately tangled themselves in Mac’s hair as he moaned, low and guttural, eyes rolled to the back of his skull in ecstasy. He’d imagined getting a blow job from Mac several times, and never once did he think the man’s mouth could move the way it was currently moving.
He was inhaling Dennis as though he held the breath of life, and Mac took in every single fucking inch of him. Dennis was smooth, not a single hair to be found, and yet Mac still buried his nose into his flesh, guzzling him down like a dying man that found water in the desert.
Dennis was sure Mac had blown plenty of men by now after all the late nights he’d spent at the Rainbow, and God knew what he’d gotten into while Dennis had been in North Dakota. Regardless, it was clear he’d honed his talent spectacularly, and if there had been a camera in that bathroom, there would have been an accompanying tape with Mac’s name and four stars on it (he would never give him five otherwise he knew Mac would quit while he was ahead, he had to keep striving or else).
His tongue was downright scandalous, lapping up Dennis’ balls and making them draw up even tighter than they already were. Nonsense poured from Dennis’ lips, eyes glazed over and riding the high of the best blow job he’d ever received as Mac started to kiss along his groin, parting his thighs even wider as he slid his tongue along his inguinal crease and once again began to feast, first sucking then biting, and the pain was so pleasurable, so exquisite that the tears that teased Dennis’ eyelids finally fell, slipping silently down his cheeks as he bit his bottom lip, tongue peeking out to lick away the salty substance.
Once Mac was finished marking each side of him, he licked a stripe along his adductor muscle then wrapped his lips back around Dennis’ cock, and sucked, teeth grazing the sensitive skin and making Dennis jump, this time a high-pitched moan vibrating off his lips and immediately setting Mac into overdrive until Dennis came, hot and fast down the other man’s throat.
Without getting a chance to recover, Mac pulled him off the counter while still on his knees, backing up on his haunches as he turned Dennis around to face the counter, then bent him over, hand firmly planted on the small of his back.
Dennis’ eyes widened at the vantage point the mirror brought him, and another gasp drew his lips apart as he watched Mac’s face disappear behind him, hands spreading his ass cheeks, and tongue darting straight for the ring of tight muscle that hadn’t been thoroughly explored in years. His hands immediately clutched the edge of the vanity, muscles tensing as the tip of Mac’s tongue penetrated his hole and Dennis’ knees almost gave out.
One of Mac’s hands found purchase on the side of his thigh, holding him firmly in place as he continued to delve deeper into the muscle then withdraw, continuously leaving Dennis keening for more.
The rational part of his brain continued into shutdown mode as Mac teased his rim with light licks before plunging inside of him, devouring as much of Dennis as he could. With each flick of his tongue, Dennis’ knees continued to tremble, tears sliding down his cheeks as he became overwhelmed with the sensation. He knew he was close to coming again, and the very second he found himself on the verge, Mac withdrew.
“What – What are you –” Dennis couldn’t get the words out, confusion and need mingling together, paralyzing his ability to speak.
Mac smirked as he reached over Dennis to the medicine cabinet and extracted a bottle of lube from one of the shelves. He stood behind Dennis but far enough off to the side that their gazes met in the mirror though Dennis’ quickly slid downwards to the swollen cock he was currently slicking up.
He'd seen Mac’s dick before, but never like this. Never so smooth and engorged and –
Realization hit him like a brick wall as it finally dawned on him that Mac was going to fuck him, and by God, it was going to hurt.
His own cock was painfully hard, and his hand slid down towards it, but Mac was quicker than he, hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling it away.
“The only thing you’re going to touch is that counter. Understand?” Mac’s finger pressed into his hole the second he finished speaking and Dennis shot forward, a burning sensation erupting. Mac forewent giving him time to respond, plunging his index finger in further to the second knuckle.
Dennis hissed at the pain but want glimmered in his eyes as he looked up at Mac, and Christ, he’d never been so turned on in his life. He gave him a swift nod, choosing to allow the words that were on the tip of his tongue to dissolve in his throat. His sweat soaked curls stuck to his forehead as he exhaled, desire painting his cheeks a rosy hue as Mac added a second finger, all the while maintaining eye contact.
Mac’s smirk grew, the left side of his mouth quirking up higher as he scissored Dennis open, delving deeper and crooking his fingertips just so, electrifying the tiny bundle of nerves that sent Dennis jolting forward and into a moaning, tearful mess. Mac gripped his side harder, fingers digging painfully into his skin and this – this was what Dennis knew he’d been longing for subconsciously because there was no way in hell he would ever admit it willfully.
Fuck that.
Fuck Ma –
A high pitched moan resonated throughout the room as Mac’s fingers were abruptly replaced with his dick, not giving Dennis any time to prepare. Tears streamed down his face along with the beads of sweat that had gathered on his forehead as he held onto the vanity for dear life. “You asshole,” he breathed the words out, gulping down the excess saliva that had built in his throat. He felt like he’d been split in two, and it hurt like no other pain he had felt before.
And it was terrific.
“Call me an asshole again.” Mac’s tone was light but it held a threatening note to it that Dennis chose to explore. (Ultimately, he knew what he was getting into but couldn’t find it in himself to care.)
“Asshole,” Dennis panted, crying out in joyous agony as Mac filled him with his entire length all in one thrust. “Goddammit, you’re an asshole,” the words spilled from Dennis’ mouth as he opened his eyes, raising his gaze and finding Mac’s satisfied one staring back at him.
“Am I?” Mac arched an eyebrow, shifting his hands so Dennis could view the fingerprint shaped bruises that were already blossoming across his pelvic bones. He immediately reclaimed his position, then slammed into Dennis with full force, balls slapping Dennis’ ass cheeks repeatedly.
“I hate you!” Dennis moaned, limbs trembling as his toes curled against the floor. “God I fucking hate you so much!” A sob rolled off his tongue as he lowered his head, damp curls falling into his face as Mac shifted ever so slightly. His eyes flew open as the brunette behind him successfully found his prostate and rammed into him, over and over and over again. A high-pitched whine shot out of his throat as he felt the orgasm building low in his belly, and goddammit, how was Mac lasting longer than him? “Fuck you!” Dennis cried out as he came without even being touched, dick twitching and shooting the white milky substance along the bottom of the cabinet. Another sob befell his lips as he felt Mac’s pace building just as his dick started to soften. He glanced up just in time to zero in on the other man who was biting his bottom lip so hard there was a thin blood trail forming on his chin. Dennis whimpered at the sight, clenching around Mac’s cock as he drove into him faster and faster until he too came. His ironclad grip on Dennis’ hips didn’t loosen until he was finished, and even then, he held on for as long as he possibly could until he too softened.
Both their chests heaved, and yet neither man moved, the sounds of their panting the only audible noise in the room.
“So, did I pass?” Mac finally asked, eyebrows raising expectantly into his forehead.
Dennis took another few breaths before he shook his head and asked, “What?” He was still bent over the sink, praying his knees wouldn’t lock up the moment he tried to straighten them.
Mac rolled his eyes then shrugged, hands flying out to his sides. “Uh, the test, duh?”
“What test?” Dennis questioned him indignantly, leaning up on one elbow and slowly pushing himself up with his hand.
“The test that you gave me,” Mac replied, confusion growing in his eyes. “Wasn’t this all just a test to see if I’d think for myself again?”
Dennis finally managed to stand up, grimacing as he felt Mac’s cum start to leak out of his ass. It took a moment for his words to sink in, but once they did, simultaneous rage and hurt claimed him and he turned to face the other man. “Are you really that stupid?” he exploded, and Mac’s eyes narrowed darkly, the easy-going expression he held before rapidly disappearing.
“You need to make up your fucking mind,” Mac ground out, spent cock hanging as he rested his hands on his hips, and Dennis wanted to scratch him and curl up into a ball on the floor.
Not one motherfucker had ever made him feel so goddamned conflicted in his life. Not fucking one.
“Did you not want to fuck me?” he returned, voice growing shriller with each syllable as he closed the gap between them, pain lancing through his backside and forcing him to limp.
“Of course I wanted to fuck you, but it was because I wanted to do it. Not because you wanted me to.” Mac’s back was straight, his voice firm, and goddammit he looked so hot standing there, every single muscle pulled taut underneath his skin. His biceps were bulging as he stood there, tendons in his arms visible and Dennis wanted to reach out and strangle him.
A groan of frustration fell from Dennis’ exasperated lips, and he lifted his hands, ready to strike, but Mac wrapped his around Dennis’ wrists, halting their movement in mid-air. “You are so annoying!” he threw the words at Mac, and for the second time that night, Mac grinned, clearly pleased with himself and Dennis’ misfortune.
“Have I ever told you how adorable you are when you’re upset?” Mac asked, and the retort Dennis had already run through his head three times fell short on his tongue as one of his eyebrows raised, completely caught off guard by Mac’s question.
“You think I’m adorable?” His tone had gone from rage-filled with a vengeance to curious in two seconds flat.
Mac let go of one of his wrists, and cupped Dennis’ cheek. “Of course, I do. You’re like an angry wet kitten. A sexy, angry wet kitten,” he corrected, and Dennis felt his chest flutter.
“You think – you think I’m sexy?” His gaze dipped, falling on Mac’s lips as he spoke.
“That’s just one of many things I think you are, Dennis. I can tell you the rest in the shower. If you like,” he added slyly, pressing his body once more up against Dennis’.
Dennis swallowed thickly, then nodded. “Start talking,” he ordered, and Mac’s eyes lit up with avidity as he led Dennis towards the shower.
Needless to say, the nightmares that had been holding Dennis captive for months didn’t make a reappearance that night, or the one after.
Fucking (or getting fucked by) Mac had been the key.
Asshole.